Proud
by Teachthemhowtodream
Summary: No matter how hard she tries to distract herself, Robin can't seem to escape her desire for approval from her father.


**Author's note: This is my first fanfiction! Ever! I'm sorry!**

**Context is soon after The Final Page, if Band or DJ hadn't happened**

When she got the call, she had gone 46 hours without thinking about the notebook. From 6 PM on Thursday evening when Barney had picked her up from work to 4 PM on Saturday as she sat with him on the couch, Robin Scherbatsky had not once thought about that line from Barney's "Robin 101" notebook.

I Am Proud Of You, Eh?

The only six words that could ever make Robin truly happy.

And it wasn't as if she wasn't happy since her engagement to Barney. This was the happiest time of her entire life, reliving the honeymoon phase that may never end with them, wanting to be with him for every breath she took. The last 46 hours had been the happiest yet, because she hadn't left his side for longer than it took to use the bathroom or grab a beer, and no one had disturbed them once. Plus, they'd had a lot of sex. And the notebook hadn't once crossed her mind; that is, until her phone rang in the middle of the second movie of the original star wars trilogy. She was annoyed because they hadn't yet been disturbed this weekend and she had hoped it to last, so as Barney felt around for the remote in the couch cushions, she answered with a short "Yes?" without so much as looking at the phone.

It was her father.

"You don't sound too happy to hear from me, RJ."

"Oh! Dad, uh, hi. I'm sorry, I was-"

"RJ. I saw your news show on television."

Barney, having paused the movie and heard only her side of the conversation, watched as her face lit up with hope that he and all of their friends had seen too many times.

"Robin-" he began to speak, with no idea what he would say, but she shushed him before he had a chance to try.

"What did you think of the show?"

"Won't they let you report on something important? Or at least interesting? Do people actually care about those stupid things you gossip about on there? Why would they want to watch a show about things happening to people they-"

From the moment he had started rambling, Barney had watched her face fall and he wouldn't stand for it. He snatched the phone from her hand, said "thank you for your opinion, Mr. Scherbatsky," into the phone, and hung up. By the time he had set the phone down and looked over at her her eyes had welled up with tears, and he pulled her head against his chest more gently than Barney Stinson would care to admit to having ever treated a woman. Barney, still having not heard the whole conversation, asked "do you wanna talk about it?" but she didn't reply. After holding her like this for several minutes, her tears still hadn't receded, and he began to stand up. Robin whimpered (rather adorably, he had to observe) as she balled her fist into the bottom of his tie and part of his shirt, trying to hold him in place, but he gently smoothed the hair back from her face and kissed her temple before standing carefully. Before she had a chance to react he had lifted her from the couch and was carrying her into the bedroom, turning the lights off and closing the door in the way in. Barney set Robin gently onto the bed, walked around to the other side, and lay down beside her. As she curled up against his chest the almost-sobbing that had begun on the couch gave way to quiet tears, and Robin knew that Barney had turned off the lights deliberately so that she could tell him whatever she wanted without having to look for his reactions or be anxious about what he would think. She wished, and knew he did too, that she didn't need that, but right now it was working and she was grateful that he had done it.

Barney began stroking Robin's hair in a not-awkward but uncharacteristically tender way and she gradually stopped crying. Part of her felt as if she had never  
been this embarrassed, but at the same time as if this is what she needed, someone who wouldn't push her to talk, but would listen to what she needed to say.

Robin had never felt that Barney understood women at all on anything deeper than a sexual level, but she had to admit that he understood _her_ like no one else.

These thoughts were why, after a few minutes of laying with (and kind of on) him in silence, Robin took a deep breath, slipped her hand into Barney's, and finally started talking.

She didn't need to say much.

"It's just... It's just always been this way. He's not proud, he doesn't understand my choices, blah, blah, blah. I lived with him for most of my childhood, how can I ever believe in myself when he never, for one second, believed in me?"

She found herself once again on the verge of tears as Barney clasped her hand tightly and kissed her on the head.

"I know it can't make up for what you really need to hear, but I'll say it again. You are the most awesome, beautiful, strong woman I have ever known, and I love you. You have absolutely everything going for you, and your dad's an idiot if he can't see that. Don't even get me started on how good you are in bed-"

She cut him off with a soft laugh as she snuggled farther against him and sighed. "Thank you."

"No problem." there were several minutes of quiet before, just as Robin thought she might be able to sleep that night despite her tightly-wound emotions, he spoke one more time.

"And Scherbatsky?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you."

Next time she thought about the notebook, those were the words that filled her mind.


End file.
